Attack of the Fairytale Zombies! (4 page)

Barth was momentarily disappointed as the witch landed with such finesse, her bounteous breasts didn’t have much of an opportunity to jiggle beneath her tight leather corset.

She turned toward Barth and Drag and held out a hand. “I’m Heather. To whom do I owe the honor of thanking for saving me from a violent and splattering death?”

Barth bent over and planted a kiss on her hand, trying his best not to leave a trail of too much slobber. “I’m Barth.” He stood up straight and nodded toward his friend. “This is Drag.”

A soft sigh escaped the witch’s lush lips. “I’ve heard a lot about you, Drag.”

Drag rolled his eyes while he sat on his haunches and straightened the ruffles on his dress. “You and most of Fairytale Kingdom. Whatever you heard, it isn’t true. Well, some of it isn’t true.”

She shook her head while chewing on her lower lip. “It was nothing bad.”

“Really?” Drag arched a massive penciled brow. “I’m surprised. Spill the beans, Druid. I haven’t got all day.”

“Nothing much.” She cocked one hand on her hip. “Just that you’re hung like a dragon.”

“Someone likes to kiss and tell,” Drag cooed. “Was it Bertha? That skank. Never play strip poker and do shots of rum and Coke with trolls. Next thing you know you’ll be flat on your back with your lance buried half-way down a troll’s throat. Too much teeth. Those clumsy beasts really have no finesse.”

Barth held out both hands. “Hey, Drag, TMI!” He turned toward Heather. “What happened to your broom?”

“I don’t know.” She scratched her scalp and wrinkled her brow to demonstrate her confusion. “It keeps acting up. I need to take it in for repairs, but those damn mechanics charged me a fortune last time and I’m strapped for cash.”

“Tell me about it,” Barth groaned. “I just spent my last coin on ale.”

Heather instantly perked. “I know a beer making spell.”

“You do?” Barth and Drag echoed in unison.

Barth coursed fingers through his hair and heaved a sigh. “We could really use a drink right now.”

She wriggled her fingers between her cleavage and pulled out what looked like a thick black wand with a bulbous tip. Either that, or it was the world’s longest magical vibrator.

Barth was struck by a surge of envy as he watched Heather caress and stroke her wand. Her erotic display also made him the slightest bit horny. He coughed into his hand as he awkwardly shuffled his feet while trying to quell his growing erection.

“Hold out your hands.” She waved the wand at both of them. “Bubble bubble, foam and brew. First there’s none, now there’s two.”

A pint of ale magically appeared in each of their hands.

“Wow,” Barth said, “how’d you do that?” Barth’s heart skipped a beat as he lost himself in Heather’s smiling eyes.

Ever since Douchebagga had shrunk the king’s balls, Barth had never been overly fond of witches. But for Heather, he might make an exception. He’d be the envy of all the other knights in Fairytale Kingdom with a girl like Heather by his side. Not to mention, he’d never have to pay for another ale again.

He turned to Drag and they each clinked their glasses before chugging their drinks.

“Ale making is one of the few things I learned in witch college.” Heather flashed a wicked grin. “Not from the teachers, but from my sorority sisters.”

“Ohhhh,” Drag purred, “witch sorority. I’ve got ten kinds of nasty images dancing through my head right now.

“Drag, ease up.” Barth glared at Drag before turning back toward Heather. “Hey, do you know a money making spell? We’re going to need some funds for a little road trip.” He tipped his head back and swallowed the last of his ale.

“No.” She hung her head and kicked up the dirt beneath her black boot. “Douchebagga and I have tried, but we can’t get the spell right.”

Barth coughed and beer residue ran down his chin. “Did you say Douchebagga?”

She nodded. “Yes.”

Drag gasped. “Are you one of
her
witches?”

She leveled a challenging glare at both of them. “I’m her apprentice. What about it?”

Drag clucked his tongue. “That evil, demonic, bloodsucking spawn of Satan?” He turned his heavy gaze down on Barth. “I bet this witch is not looking so sexy now, eh bro?”

Heather folded her arms across her chest and stomped a foot. “Just because my boss is an evil witch, doesn’t make me evil, too.”

“Did you hear what she did to the king’s balls? Shrunk them up she did,” Drag snickered.

”Oh, well.” Barth said with perhaps a little too much forced indifference in his voice as he wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve. “At least he deserved it.”

Heather’s hands flew to her mouth as she let out a soft gasp. “Oh, that reminds me. I must get to Swans Lake before she poisons it with love potion.”

“Love potion?” Barth and Drag echoed.

“Yes, she’s trying to make Drag fall in love with her.”

Barth laughed out loud. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

Drag perked up while batting his large eyes. “I knew she had the hots for me. We should so hit her up for money.”

“Drag,” Barth scolded, “she shrunk the balls of the last guy she fell in love with.”

Drag’s eyes widened. “Oh, right.” Then the dragon held up his empty mug while leveling Heather with an expectant gaze.

She waved her wand and refilled both of their cups.

“So why is Douchebagga poisoning Swans Lake again?” Barth asked Heather before taking a huge swallow of ale.

Heather groaned. “She thinks it’s a love potion, but none of her love potions ever turn out right. She’s going to dump it in the lake, and when Drag drinks from it, supposedly he’ll fall in love with her.”

“I don’t drink from Swans Lake. Do you know how many water sprites piss in there?” Drag grimaced before chugging his ale.

“All I know is that Swans Lake is Fairytale Kingdom’s major water source. We use it for everything, from bathing to distilling alcohol.”

Barth and Drag simultaneously spewed their ale all over Heather.

Heather pulled a face while wiping slobbery residue off of her corset. “If Douchebagga dumps that potion in the lake, there’s no telling what will happen.” Heather’s tone turned urgent. “Maybe more than just balls will fall off.”

“We have to stop her,” Barth’s voice was lacking conviction. After all, he really wasn’t in the mood to wage a battle with a ball-shrinking Druid. But after chugging two large ales, he was feeling a little more confident in his abilities to kick ass.

And maybe, just maybe, Heather would reward him for his bravery.

“Hop on,” Drag boomed. “I’ll take us there. Just don’t pull too hard on the fabric. It’s breathable Egyptian cotton, but not
that
breathable.”

Within the span of a few Elf heartbeats, they’d reached their destination; a pristine lakeshore with a white pebble beach and clear waters.

Elves, fairies, goblins, dwarves and even a few talking animals frolicked in the water’s currents.

After Barth and Heather dismounted, they all scanned the beach, looking for any sign of Douchebagga.

Heather’s shoulders fell. “I don’t see her.”

But Barth had already stopped searching the lake and was too busy pining over Heather. Her porcelain skin looked even more dazzling beneath the sun’s rays, so dazzling in fact, that if she were a vampire, she’d probably sparkle.

“So you really work for Douchebagga?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

Barth swallowed a lump which had suddenly formed in his throat as he inched closer to her. “You don’t seem like a vile witch.”

Shock crossed her pale features. “Do all witches have to be vile?”

He shrugged apologetically. “Douchebagga is.”

She sighed while shaking her head. “Is she really vile or just misunderstood?”

He arched a brow. “Are you serious?”

“Okay,” Heather relented. “Maybe she’s a little vile, but just because I’m a witch, too, that doesn’t mean I have to be vile.”

Hope surged in Barth’s chest as he felt an intimate connection to Heather. He knew exactly how she felt. “I know what you mean. Just because I’m a dragon slayer, doesn’t mean I have to slay dragons.”

“Technically speaking, since slaying dragons is part of the title, yes it does.” She planted a fist on her curved hip. “If you don’t want to slay dragons, you should consider a whole new profession.”

His jaw went momentarily slack before he held up both hands in a defensive gesture. “But it’s all I know how to do.”

She wagged a finger. “You need to learn to adapt. When the king took over the dwarves’ jewel mine, they switched to mining coal.”

Barth eyed her skeptically. “And now they all have breathing problems.”

“But they have jobs,” she argued, “so they can afford healthcare and prescription asthma drugs.”

Barth tilted his head to the side while scrunching his brow. “This is really sounding less and less like a fairytale, and I’m starting to wonder if the author has a hidden social agenda.”

“Look!” Drag, who had conveniently managed to stay quiet during the entire scene between Barth and Heather, pointed toward a shiny object floating in the lake. “An empty flask.”

“Shit!” Barth ran toward the water’s edge, then thought better of retrieving the flask as he was suddenly struck by the horrific image of his balls turning to dried up raisins. “We’re too late.”

“What do we do?” Heather cried.

Barth, being the knight and supposedly the hero, decided it was time for him to assume the role of the lead male in the novel and take control of the situation by issuing an authoritative command. “Find a way to close down the lake. Don’t let anyone use this water.”

They all turned their heads at the distinct sound of cheerful whistling. They watched with slack jaws as several pint-sized dwarves marched past them and into the water. A pale-skinned woman, scantily clad in a red-and-blue bikini top and a yellow, g-string bottom, squeaked like a mouse on crack as she raced ahead of them before diving head-first into the lake.

She popped her head out of the water. “The first one to catch me gets to tickle my g-spot,” she giggled while ripping off her padded bikini top and throwing it onto the shore.

“Hi, ho, hi, ho, it’s off to gang-bang we go,” the dwarves sang as they dove after the woman.

“No, wait!” Barth finally called after them.

That’s when he noticed the other fairytale creatures in the water had started to moan.

“Oh, gawd, their balls must be shrinking,” Drag croaked.

Heather’s hands flew to her mouth. “What do we do?”

“I say we just fly away and pretend this never happened.” Drag’s normally deep voice was laced with high-pitched urgency. “I don’t want to be here when testicles start dropping off.”

Just then, two ominous glowing eyes appeared from within the forest shadows as a huge, menacing beast slowly came into full view. The beast sulked toward the water’s edge.

“Big Bad Wolf!” Heather cried. “Don’t drink the water!”

The wolf stopped his advance and let out a low whine as a lit joint fell out of his mouth. “Dude, I’ve got cottonmouth. I need some water.”

“Douchebagga put love potion in the lake,” Barth warned. “We have to alert everyone that the water isn’t safe.”

“So not cool. I’m on it,” the wolf said as he spun on his heels and dashed back into the forest.

Barth, Drag and Heather turned their attention back toward the dwarves as they dragged the shrieking pale-skinned woman out of the water by her hair.

“Stop!” Barth commanded as he stepped in front of the dwarves in an attempt to block their path.

“Brains,” one of the little red-faced men moaned as he released his hold on the woman and lunged toward Barth.

Barth jumped back and raced toward Drag and Heather. “What the fuck?”

“Brains,” the dwarf moaned again as he walked toward them with outstretched arms. His tiny pair of glasses was sitting askew on his bulbous nose, revealing two vacant, glowing eyes.

Drag, Barth and Heather all scooted back several paces, their weary gazes darting from the advancing dwarf to his group of friends, which were now banging the screaming woman’s head against the rocky shore.

Heather gasped. “What are they doing to her?”

“Are they trying to rape her?” Barth wondered aloud.